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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22981780">Fuck.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Beatles (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Gosh this is sad, He is also sick of everyone’s shit, John is calm, M/M, Self humour to ignore the chaos, This man can not have a break, Violence, based on december 8th, lots of blood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:01:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,877</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22981780</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>John tries to register what happens only minutes after he’s incapacitated by bullets. As he slowly dies, he helps himself to his wittiness to keep him calm and calculated until Paul’s voice helps him properly transition.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>John Lennon/Paul McCartney</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Fuck.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>My eyes were still opened. I could see what was happening. I just could not hear since my ears were ringing, so fucking loudly. I tried to manage what I was feeling but it was just a thrilling cold numbness which left me in white for a moment. I turned my head, so that the side of my cheek was lying on the cold floor and that’s when the feeling crept in.</p>
<p>Pain, so much fucking <span class="u">pain</span>. It flashed right before me without any type of preparation on my part. <em>Fuck</em>. What was there to expect? I just got shot. I was not expecting it to be like getting a shot from a needle at the doctor’s office. Bullets entered me, and from the looks of it —</p>
<p>I stared distantly at the single bullet lying a few feet away from me.</p>
<p>— It went right through my body. Like the tip of a newly sharpened NO.2 pencil impaling a withering piece of paper.</p>
<p>It was hard to breathe, but I flared my nose as much as I could to get breaths in. It was painful though. Immensely, just from simply breathing I’d have to move the organs inside of my body to do so.</p>
<p>The tips of my fingers scratched at the concrete, and I could not help feeling bone rattling chills. My body felt so cold, I needed a blanket or something and a bed to rest in right now. I need Paul. Oh fuck, I <em>need</em> Paul. I need his voice to help me gather myself.</p>
<p>That’s when my breath hitched, and a cough escaped from my mouth with some type of phlegm too. I closed my eyes as severe coughs racked up my body, leaving me in enormous pain and spikes of chills simultaneously enveloping me. When I opened my eyes there was a puddle of thick blood beside me, and I felt some more drip from the corner of my mouth.</p>
<p><em>Holy shit</em>.</p>
<p>Alright John, let’s get off the front now. Turn over, turn over, turn over. I was halfway there, when another spike of chills numbed my lower half but I refused to give in. All I had to do was turn on my back, or just lay on my side, I don’t know which one is better. The bullets went into my back, no doubt about it and the paralysis seemed to be incoming heavily.</p>
<p>I could not hear anything else but the sound of my own heartbeat. Whenever I would be running, it seemed to beat more profusely in my ears or whenever I’d get frightened. Yet now, the sound of my own heart pumping dangerously hard or in other words; desperately pumping for some type of blood to keep it thriving, seemed to be putting me to sleep.</p>
<p>Or maybe I’m just dying.</p>
<p>With lowered eyelids, I stared at the wall of the building. Where was the bloody help? At least let me leave this shithole with a blanket.</p>
<p>I’m so tired. I feel so hurt, I can’t even breathe through my nose anymore. That’s when I noticed my nose was bleeding too, it was fucking clogged with blood. So was my throat which caused me to eject another several bloody episode of coughs.</p>
<p><em>Mimi</em>.</p>
<p>Mum.</p>
<p><em>Yoko</em>.</p>
<p>Richard.</p>
<p>George.</p>
<p>Brian, oh <em>Brian</em>.</p>
<p>Cyn, beautiful Cynthia. That long and golden hair of yours.</p>
<p>Julian, gosh I wish that I had more time with you. My baby boy, you’ve grown up so much. </p>
<p>Sean, my beautiful boy.</p>
<p>Paul, my love, my credibility to making it this far in life. My sanctuary. <em>Fuck</em>.</p>
<p>The black dots in the corner of my vision seemed to have become more frequent, and it made me swish my violently trembling hands around desperately in my coat. Instead of finding my glasses and putting them on like a normal human, my hand just spontaneously jerked it to the other side of me. Fuck I’m losing control of my nerves. Everything is shutting down.</p>
<p>Oh, what is this? Who’s grabbing me? I’m being lifted up off of the ground, and that’s when I finally bent my head back to see Yoko trailing behind me. Her face was blank, no emotions registered to whatever the fuck was happening to me. I don’t know why that seemed to hurt me now, she’d always be like that when it came to my safety. I have no idea why.</p>
<p>There was a police car. Was I being arrested? Why am I being rushed to a police car? Fuck it was so cold out here, hopefully they have a blanket to give me. I could go into my cell with some type of disney Mickey Mouse blanket, yeah that would be quite the aesthetic.</p>
<p>I tried asking them about the Mickey Mouse blanket once they settled me in the car, but what came out instead was some type of wheezed gurgle that burnt the shit out of my mouth.</p>
<p>I’m so <em>tired</em>. It’s like each bloody second that passes by, I would yearn for some type of energy drink to keep these heavy lids open.</p>
<p>I need to sleep it off, maybe they’ll help me out in the morning. I’ll wake up in a antibiotic- stinking hospital, and we’ll move on from whatever this shit was. Maybe I’ll give Mark a couple of dollars so he could try and escape this country.</p>
<p>How did I know his name was Mark? He told me when I didn’t ask him.</p>
<p>
  <em>“My name is Mark David Chapman, by the way sir.” He breathed, his breath was hot and it smelt like sandpaper. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I handed him the album back with a smile, and a nod. “Nice to meet you Mark, have a nice night. Or do you need anything else?”</em>
</p>
<p><em>The chap stared at me for a couple of seconds, and he wordlessly shook his head</em>.</p>
<p>I rested the back of my head against the car door window, and stared at my legs for awhile as the police quickly settled themselves in the two front seats. Focusing my tired eyes on the window at the other side of me, I stared at the man; fucking <em>Mark</em> who did this bullshit in pure disbelief.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> Even if I do survive this, and I give him a couple of thousand dollars; are you fucking mad?</span></p>
<p>Signed your album then this? Americans are such trippy people I tell you. They ask you for something, and then they come go pull out a revolver on you.</p>
<p>Sniffing up some snot and blood that was ready to vacate from my nose, I spat out a clot of blood from my mouth. With a grunt, I rested the back of my head onto the window again and felt my whole body convulse. Am I having a seizure? I mean, it would be understandable but that’s almost instantaneous death with the condition I’m in right now.</p>
<p>Fortunately, I was not seizing, but my body was shaking spastically without any reason. I was just so cold. So very cold, and in immense pain it was pain that so bad, it felt cold.</p>
<p>You know when you stick your hand in scalding hot water and it’s cold as first, but then the burn comes within seconds? It was that kind of pain. It was not just in my back but it was in my chest, and all in my stomach.</p>
<p>I was warned about New York before, how dirty it could be but what was their point? Liverpool was just like this place, if not worse. I can live anywhere I want to, whether it would be the suburbs or the projects. It doesn’t matter to me. Or in other terms, it didn’t matter to me.</p>
<p>Fuck Paul, I need you here so bad. He better be at the hospital next morning.</p>
<p>One of the bloody officers had the audacity to ask me as they were driving, “Are you John Lennon?”</p>
<p>Does it matter? That’s what I wanted to say, but that was three words too many. My jaw hurts, very bad. The last thing I wanted to do was talk.</p>
<p>Come on Johnny, answer the question.</p>
<p>When I had opened my mouth; a gargled inhale replaced the answer and it had me choking on a coffee mug of blood that seemed to bottle up at the back of my throat. My eyes watered as I coughed, the blurry vision becoming unrecognizably worse; in other words I was going fucking blind in the backseat of a police car. A dark haze was clothing my vision for about ten seconds, and then suddenly the lights switched off.</p>
<p>Vision? Shut down. That’s a check, next was most likely my consciousness.</p>
<p>“Yes.” I sputtered, and even though it made me throw up dark blood, I definitely surprised myself. That yes came out wet and weak, but it was coherent enough for the two policemen to exchange some shocked murmursat each other.</p>
<p>I was <em>blind</em>, I couldn’t see a thing and frankly. I was at peace with that. You see, seeing my own blood all over my clothes was not settling well with me and it was causing my heart to pump even faster. Which was also not good, because second by second there was less blood for it to pump. Christ I might have a dry heart attack, and then what? Death just isn’t fair.</p>
<p>I closed my useless eyes, and let out a struggled breath as I became slack against the seat. I’ll just rest here and then tomorrow morning I’ll wake up. I just need to go to sleep, block everything out right now until I can get my head together.</p>
<p>The sound of my heart beating wasn’t audible anymore. It made me jolt, but at the same time, I was still. The jolt was not out of fear, but frustration. How was I supposed to sleep and relax if my heart wasn’t keeping me aware that I was still here? Where’s that hypnotic rhythm that creates the driving force of me being asleep? What the hell is my body trying to pull now? I already went blind. Gosh I’ve only relaxed for about twenty seconds and now my heart won’t even—</p>
<p>Wait.</p>
<p>Oh.</p>
<p><em><span class="u">Fuck</span></em>. </p>
<p>The next time I opened my eyes, there was a face that I did not recognize. Oh so my vision came back? Great. The violent sleepiness did not depart though, and I felt like whenever I was tempted to close my eyes, I was not going to wake up again.</p>
<p>“We got him back! Come on, let’s keep pumping!”</p>
<p>Oh great. I’m dying. It seems as if I had woken up in the middle of my nap too early, which was weird.</p>
<p>That’s when I heard his voice, a final reassurance. Yeah this was it. This is all I needed, just Paul’s voice to send me back into my slumber.</p>
<p>
  <em>‘Close your eyes.’</em>
</p>
<p>I closed my eyes.</p>
<p>“Oh no, oh no no no no, we’re losing him again!”</p>
<p>‘<em>And I’ll kiss you.</em>’</p>
<p>“Come on doc, there’s nothing we can do.”</p>
<p>“<b>Fuck</b>.”</p>
<p><em>‘Tomorrow, I’ll miss you</em>.’</p>
<p>“I’m so sorry John.”</p>
<p>‘<em>Remember I'll always be true</em>’</p>
<p>‘<em>And then while I'm away</em>’</p>
<p>‘<em>I'll write home every day</em>’</p>
<p>‘<em>And I'll send all my lovin' to you</em>’</p>
<p>•••</p>
<p> </p>
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